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<title>𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚢 by MissAntiSocial</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525925">𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚗𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚢</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAntiSocial/pseuds/MissAntiSocial'>MissAntiSocial</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>GOT7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Im Jaebum | JB, Depression, Eventual Smut, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mentions of kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Missed Connections, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Smut, Top Mark Tuan, not any of the members, slight mentions of homophobia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:08:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,621</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525925</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAntiSocial/pseuds/MissAntiSocial</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>☽◦☾"ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴀɴ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ"☽◦☾<br/>Mark locks eyes with a beautiful stranger, and now he's hopelessly in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Choi Youngjae/Jackson Wang, Im Jaebum | JB/Mark Tuan, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Kim Yugyeom, Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Fate</b> ☽◦☾</p><p>The lights of the city blurred as the bus drove through the crowded streets. </p><p>He leans against the window with his headphones on, a sigh escaping his lips. </p><p><em>"You'll find someone soon.</em>" </p><p>That sentence makes him want to laugh. </p><p>When was soon? </p><p>Another 7 more years maybe. </p><p>"<em>Maybe it's because of that silly writing passion of yours.</em>" </p><p>Writing was not some 'silly passion'. </p><p>To him- Writing was his <em>entire </em>life. </p><p>He loved how his words blended together on the screen of his laptop during lonely nights- </p><p>Words are what kept him company when he was alone. </p><p>"<em>Maybe your soulmate is hiding out there somewhere- You can't just give up.</em>"</p><p>He's already given up the moment he turned 24. </p><p>He was supposed to find someone 6 years ago- No one came to him. </p><p>Actually, now that he thought about it- He understood why. </p><p>He never socialized at public gatherings and kept himself closed off from the world. </p><p>He always wrote and wrote. </p><p>His parents said that it was an addiction, an obsession- <em>A <b>drawback</b></em><b>.</b> </p><p>He, of course, thought otherwise. </p><p>The bus comes to a halt and he notices the familiar, dull sign of his apartment building outside the window. </p><p>He finds himself sighing once again, lethargically getting up from his seat. </p><p>He was exhausted. </p><p>He lost all feeling of his body. </p><p>
  <b> <em>Numb.</em> </b>
</p><p>"Have a good night." </p><p>The bus driver smiles at him and he could only think about what was so good about it. </p><p>However, he gives a tight lipped smile and a nod before exiting the vehicle. </p><p>He stands outside at the bus stop, watching as the bus departs and gives him a clearing of what was on the other side of the bustling road. </p><p>He had to admit- </p><p>The city was rather mesmerizing in the dark, colorful lights sparkling everywhere. </p><p>He stands and admires, ignoring the passersby that only look at him quizzically as they walk past. </p><p>They must think he's weird- But he doesn't care. </p><p>He stands there and closes his eyes, rain suddenly pouring from the sky. </p><p>He thought that the sky was crying for him- </p><p>Since he was incapable. </p><p>His emotions were buried under hopelessness. </p><p>There was no hope for him to find love. </p><p>He opens his eyes, raindrops sliding down his cheeks like tears. </p><p>He's never felt so low before, but he internally thanks the rain. </p><p>His eyes longingly stare out into the vast sea of activity and just as he's about to go to his apartment and shut himself out from the rest of the world- </p><p>Something stops him.</p><p>Or rather <b><em>someone</em></b>. </p><p>Out of all the people passing by, one person glows brightly in the dull crowd. </p><p>A beautiful face in a sea of lifelessness- </p><p>An angel in the midst of mortals. </p><p>He's mesmerized by the delicate locks of thick, black hair that shielded this ethereal being's hypnotizing eyes. </p><p>Something makes his want to follow- And so he does. </p><p>He carelessly runs across the street, brushing past people in great haste. </p><p>His eyes try their best to not lose sight of the glowing angel, the white attire making them seemingly more heavenly. </p><p>He finds himself panting as he begins to slowly lose energy, his steps gradually slowing down until he stops to catch his breath. </p><p>He looks up and just as he thought he's failed- </p><p>The angel turns around. </p><p>Time stops for a second as he makes eye contact, noting the flushed cheeks, piercing yet soft eyes with two small moles that resided above them, soft lips- </p><p>He keeps note of them all. </p><p>The thing that he has imprinted in his mind was the sad look on the angel's face, which makes his heart ache with sorrow. </p><p>He wanted so much as to hold this angel in his arms. </p><p>To have this angel as his own. </p><p>To claim the angel as <em>his</em>. </p><p>Alas he couldn't. </p><p>His angel was a <b><em>male</em></b>. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Angel</b> ☽◦☾</p><p>
  <em>In the midst of the dreary streets of the city- I saw an angel. An angel with the purest white wings. He was-</em>
</p><p>[Delete?]</p><p>[<b>Yes</b>] [No]</p><p>---</p><p>
  <em>The sky was sorrowful as the rain came down like tears. Tears that he couldn't comprehend. He asked himself-</em>
</p><p>[Delete?]</p><p>[<b>Yes</b>] [No]</p><p>---</p><p>
  <em>I wondered what it would feel like. What it would feel like to kiss an angel-</em>
</p><p><em>"</em>An angel huh."</p><p>He gets startled by the voice behind him, sighing as his heart beats against his chest. </p><p>"You can't just scare people like that," </p><p>he says while the person behind only shrugs in response. </p><p>"It's not my fault that my friend's a hopeless romantic that's so invested in writing-"</p><p> The male bites his tongue before adding, "not in a bad way of course." </p><p>He can only sigh before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes.</p><p>"What do you want <b><em>Jackson</em></b>." </p><p>This male 'Jackson' sits beside him, silently trying to read him.</p><p>"I'll always be here for you," the other says and puts a hand on his shoulder, "you know that- Right <b><em>Mark</em></b>?" </p><p>Mark looks at the hand on his shoulder. </p><p>He knows. </p><p>He knows a lot of things.</p><p>He knows that love is nothing without another person. </p><p>He knows what it's like to be disappointed. </p><p>He knows his parents would never accept him for who he is- </p><p>"Have you told them yet?" </p><p>If he told them. </p><p>Mark shakes his head no and Jackson only nods at him, not saying anything else. </p><p>They sit in silence, with nothing really to be said. </p><p>However, Jackson was known to exhibit the trait of curiosity.</p><p>Especially when it came to Mark and his introversion. </p><p>"So you still haven't answered my question." </p><p>"Which is?" </p><p>Jackson rolls his eyes. </p><p>He knows the other was playing dumb with him- </p><p>He didn't understand why though. </p><p>"The angel," his finger points at the word on the screen of Mark's laptop,"who is it?" </p><p>The image of the beautiful stranger's mesmerizing face flashes in Mark's mind. </p><p>The look of surprise and delicateness etched onto his lovely features. </p><p>He smiles for a second at the memory before it drops to a frown, and he goes back to typing on his laptop. </p><p>Jackson silently watches the words that line up on the once blank page on the screen, </p><p>and he thinks that maybe he shouldn't have asked.</p><p>
  <em>I stood in the dark and watched as the angel slowly faded away. The fate of reality was cruel- I would never see my beautiful angel again.</em>
</p><p>[Delete?]</p><p>[Yes] [<b>No</b>]</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Hell</b> ☽◦☾</p><p>3 am hit differently for Mark. </p><p>To most people, it was considered the <b><em>Devil's Hour</em></b>. </p><p>To Mark- It was the exact time he had seen his angel. </p><p>He would stand at his window every morning, gazing down at the streets with hopes of seeing the angel again. </p><p>His heart would always tighten when nothing shone brighter than the lights of the city. </p><p>Sometimes he thought that chasing after the angel was probably a dream. </p><p>Maybe it was just an infatuation of his imagination that was desperate to lead him into a false sense of hope to fill the void in his heart. </p><p>The mind was a lonely, cruel place- But at least it helped him write. </p><p>After being disappointed by the angel's absence once again, he sits back on his laptop and let's his fingers dance on the keys with utmost delicacy. </p><p>His fingertips go cold every time he presses a letter, eyes unmoving from the screen.</p><p>- - - </p><p>
  <em>I wondered what it would feel like. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What it would feel like to kiss an angel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I saw one from the depths of my nightmares, reaching out for me from above my pit of sorrow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I put my hand up and try to grab the hand that ever so beautifully moved towards me- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until it disappears from my sight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I look up and see the angel standing overhead, just silently staring down at me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He starts to cry tears of diamonds that fall around me and it's so- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's so <b>beautiful</b>. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I climb as far as I can, the gems scratching my skin and drawing blood. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The pain wasn't there, but the cause of it flowed down the expanse of my body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I desperately call for the angel, who continues to weep and covers his ethereal face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The world around grows darker as I slip with every step, as if the universe never wanted me and my angel to meet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My precious, glowing angel stops crying and pulls his hands away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can see the glittering tear streaks that resided on his cheeks. </em>
</p><p><em>He looked so broken, so fragile, so </em> <b> <em>orphic</em> </b> <em>. </em></p><p>
  <em>Something about him drove me insane and I loved it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wanted to uncover his secrets and share his pain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alas- Fate had other plans. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I stood in the dark and watched as the angel slowly faded away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>T</em>
  <em>he fate of reality was cruel- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I would never see my beautiful angel again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Even if I crossed hell and back-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- - -</em>
</p><p>Mark eyes the last sentence carefully before reflecting on himself.</p><p>Was he a devil then? </p><p>A follower of Satan? </p><p>An eternal sin? </p><p>He bolds the word <b><em>hell </em></b>and thinks again.</p><p>Was that why he never saw his angel?</p><p> Were they never meant to be?</p><p> Was it because he was-</p><p> He shakes his head and pulls himself back out of his deepening thoughts.</p><p> This wasn't the first time he's dug that deep.</p><p> There was no else that could pull him out right now-</p><p> So he needed to stop himself.</p><p> His phone glows and moves against the table, his mother's name appearing on the screen.</p><p> Mark just stares as the phone keeps ringing.</p><p>
  <b> And ringing... </b>
</p><p>
  <em>And ringing... </em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">And ringing... </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Different </b>☽◦☾</p>
<p>The dark circles under his eyes- </p>
<p>They weren't hard to miss. </p>
<p>"Mark..." </p>
<p>Jackson doesn't know what to say. </p>
<p>The older now consumes his fifth cup of coffee. </p>
<p>The breeziness of the cold morning lightly teases it's way through the window, causing a few papers to fly. </p>
<p>Jackson watches them gracefully move through the air before landing anywhere but where they sat before. </p>
<p>"You were up again?" </p>
<p>Mark nods in confirmation, setting down his cup and absentmindedly staring out the window. </p>
<p>"Writing?" </p>
<p>Another nod. </p>
<p>"About the angel?" </p>
<p>Another nod. </p>
<p>"Did your mom call again?" </p>
<p>Another nod. </p>
<p>Jackson chews on his bottom lip in uncertainty, "...did you answer?" </p>
<p>Mark's head doesn't move for a second, his gaze never leaving the uneventful window. </p>
<p>He shakes his head no. </p>
<p>"You know I can't Jackson," he says with a sigh, "I'd break if I heard her voice." </p>
<p>The other only nods in acknowledgement, his fingers tapping on the surface of the table. </p>
<p>"So- Any plans today?" </p>
<p>Mark turns from the window, his eyes seemingly brighter at the mention of <em>today</em>. </p>
<p>"I'm going to find him." </p>
<p>Jackson looks at him, confusion residing on his face before it's stricken with realization. </p>
<p>"Mark I don't think-" </p>
<p>"Jackson." </p>
<p>He can only sigh before nodding, knowing Mark would pull the 'I'm your hyung remember?' card. </p>
<p>"I guess if I can't stop you," he says while giving the other a smile, "I'll help you instead."</p>
<p>☽◦☾</p>
<p>There were so many people around every corner. </p>
<p>He tries to see any familiarization on their faces, but they all looked the same to him. </p>
<p>No one stood out to him. </p>
<p>No one <b><em>glowed</em></b>. </p>
<p>Strangers stared at him in confusion as he squinted at them through his glasses. </p>
<p>His vision was perfect- </p>
<p>He just needed to hide the fact that he was sleep deprived. </p>
<p>Or how broken he was inside. </p>
<p>They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. </p>
<p>"Are you sure you weren't dreaming?" </p>
<p>Jackson knows the question was risky, but he needed to say it. </p>
<p>They've been searching for the past 30 minutes, with Mark always saying: </p>
<p>"That's not him."</p>
<p>It felt like they were searching for something that wasn't even there in the first place.</p>
<p> "I know what I saw, Jackson," the other says with a determined, yet betrayed look on his eyes. </p>
<p>Mark doesn't think Jackson could understand him sometimes. </p>
<p>Though it made sense. </p>
<p>He grew up in a household where he felt like he had to hide himself.</p>
<p>Panic every time his parents walked into his room- </p>
<p>While Jackson was fortunate enough to have open minded and supportive parents. </p>
<p>Their worlds clashed and yet their friendship was strong. </p>
<p>Mark was honestly glad to have the other. </p>
<p>Without him- </p>
<p>He would've disappeared a long time ago.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To know for future chapters: The perspectives will switch between Mark and Jaebum. </p><p>Left side = Mark<br/>Right side = Jaebum</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Eyes </b>☽◦☾</p><p>He feels eyes staring at him. </p><p>Hungry. </p><p>Lustful. </p><p>Thirsty. </p><p>He hates it here- </p><p>He hates the people here. </p><p>There's degrading words and cat calling. </p><p>Disrespect and humiliation. </p><p>"<em>You can go to the back room. I can take it from here,</em>" another performer whispers while placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. </p><p>He nods at him and begins to walk off stage, hearing the crowd yell in protest. </p><p>
  <em>"Come back gorgeous!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm not done looking!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Let me touch you!"</em>
</p><p>He disappears behind the red curtains, standing still for a moment. </p><p>His reflection resides in one of the mirrors and he takes a look at himself. </p><p>He sees the makeup caked on his face and the few pieces of clothing that 'covered' his body. </p><p>He never asked to do this. </p><p>He never wanted to do this. </p><p>"Are you okay?" </p><p>The other performer comes to him, looking at him with concern. </p><p>He nods weakly, his eyes never leaving his reflection. </p><p>They both stare at themselves in the mirror- Seeing the difference of their life stories just from their eyes. </p><p>"I'm sorry things had to be this way for you," the other performer says while sighing, </p><p>"<b><em>it's not fair</em></b>." </p><p>Nothing is fair- </p><p>He knows this well. </p><p>"You wanna go home?" </p><p>
  <em>Home... </em>
</p><p>He pulls out his phone from his bag that rested on the couch, glancing at the picture on the lockscreen. </p><p>It was a man and woman smiling at the camera with a little boy grinning in their arms.</p><p>A tear rolls down his cheek. </p><p>He misses his parents. </p><p>His <b><em>real </em></b>parents. </p><p>"I think I'll leave early," he says and the other performer nods at him before bidding him goodbye. </p><p>He slips on the same faded, white blouse we always wore.</p><p> It was all he had left of his mother. </p><p>He slips on the rusted, faded silver watch onto his wrist. </p><p>It was all he had left of his father. </p><p>He stares at the two silver wedding rings on his thin fingers. </p><p>It was all he had left of <b><em>them</em></b>.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>He liked the city when it was dark. </p><p>It shielded him from the eyes of strangers. </p><p>He didn't want them to pity him. </p><p>He allows himself to move along with the sea of people, the streets being crowded around this time. </p><p>He wasn't going home today- </p><p>He was going somewhere else. </p><p>Somewhere he felt safe. </p><p>Then he felt it. </p><p>Eyes staring at him.</p><p>He keeps walking, hoping that the eyes would look away or the feeling would go away. </p><p>He walks a little more, but the feeling doesn't subside. </p><p>The only difference with these eyes- </p><p>They weren't anything he's felt before. </p><p>He feels appreciated and admired. </p><p>Special and rare. </p><p><b><em>Loved</em></b>. </p><p>So he takes the courage to turn around and he sees him. </p><p>Out of all the people, one male looks at him with great admiration and awe. </p><p>Though his eyes are covered by messy red locks, he can feel it. </p><p>The male was a little shorter and thinner than he was, but he seemed quite toned from what he could see. </p><p>He sees something familiar in the others eyes- </p><p>But can't tell what it is. </p><p>He spares one more final glance before turning around and letting the red haired male be embedded into his mind as he walks to his safe haven. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Face </b>☽◦☾</p>
<p>"There's another bruise." </p>
<p>He flinches when he feels the other lightly presses on it. </p>
<p>"Hey don't touch it-" </p>
<p>"<b><em>Jaebum </em></b>when are you finally going to end this?" </p>
<p>Jaebum looks at the other male, who's face says it all. </p>
<p>He's concerned- And he thinks he has every right to be. </p>
<p>"You know things are complicated <b><em>Jinyoung</em></b>," he whispers, "my parents or not- They need help." </p>
<p>Jaebum sometimes thinks that he was cursed with such a kind heart, despite how much people have taken advantage of it. </p>
<p>He always tried to see the good in people- </p>
<p>Even if they didn't deserve it. </p>
<p>"Are you serious Jaebum?!" Jinyoung says in frustration while looking at the other in disbelief, "I don't want to bring this up again, but it's because of <b><em>them </em></b>that..." </p>
<p>The other's voice trails off before shaking his head.</p>
<p> "I'm sorry I can't say it." </p>
<p>Jaebum knows exactly what he was going to say but he only brushes it off. </p>
<p>"It's fine Jinyoung- It's not like this is anything new for me-" </p>
<p>"Jaebum that's what I'm afraid of." </p>
<p>He gently grips the others hand while looking at him, "I don't want you to think that whatever you're going through is okay." </p>
<p>Jaebum doesn't say anything but look down at their hands. </p>
<p>Jinyoung's hands were clean and blemishless, compared to his dull, bruised ones. </p>
<p>He can see a big difference- But he refuses to admit it. </p>
<p>Jinyoung sighs. </p>
<p>"Look, you're always welcome to stay at our place," the younger says solemnly, "you know my family is here for you. my younger brother even likes your company better than mine- Though I'm his actual brother." </p>
<p>Jaebum chuckles a little and Jinyoung smiles in accomplishment. </p>
<p>"I saw someone tonight." </p>
<p>The tone in the older's voice is soft and hopeful as Jinyoung notices the light sparkle in his eyes. </p>
<p>"He looked at me in a way that I've felt before," Jaebum says with a hand over his heart, recalling the look of awe of the male's face. </p>
<p>"I felt <b><em>appreciated</em></b>,Jinyoung. He made me feel something I've never felt for a long time-" </p>
<p>He notices the sudden look in the younger's eyes before adding: </p>
<p>"Not that you don't already. It was just... different." </p>
<p>Jinyoung only gives him an acknowledging nod, "what did he look like?" </p>
<p>The male's face came into view and Jaebum could only think of one word that could describe him. </p>
<p>"<b><em>Hope</em></b>." </p>
<p>The older looks at the other with bright eyes, "he looked like my hope Jinyoung." </p>
<p>Then he realizes something. </p>
<p>His eyes go dull from the epiphany that he could never meet his hope. </p>
<p>"I don't know his name..." </p>
<p>Jinyoung is astounded at the other's words. </p>
<p>"You're meaning to tell me you didn't actually <b><em>talk </em></b>to him?" he questions, to which Jaebum nods briefly. </p>
<p>They sit in silent, the tv running in the background. </p>
<p>"Do you..." </p>
<p>The younger clears his throat, "do you have anything that could help you find him?" </p>
<p>Jaebum plays with his fingers, thinking deeply of his brief interaction with the stranger. </p>
<p>"His face," he says while looking at the younger. </p>
<p>A light gust of wind comes through the window and brushes the strands of black hair away from Jaebum's hopeful eyes. </p>
<p>"I'd recognize his face anywhere." </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Past </b>☽◦☾</p><p>
  <em>The beginning of his unfortunate story started with a woman and man that fell in love with each other. </em>
</p><p><em>They were described to be </em> <b> <em>inseparable, compatible, perfect</em> </b> <em>. </em></p><p>
  <em>This couple never believed in the concept of perfect, falling for each other's imperfections. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She loved the man's scars, and he loved the woman's fragile heart. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They get married and eventually have a child. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The wife tells her husband that she's never seen such an ethereal child before. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Was it a boy or a girl? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a boy. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Even the doctor was stunned. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>This boy grows up well and happy, both of his parents staying by his side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turns 5 years old. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He waits at home with his father. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A car comes and takes his mother away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now he had his father by his side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turns 10 years old. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He waits in school and is taken to an orphanage. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A rope comes and takes his father away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now he had no one by his side. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He refused to eat, speak, and cooperate. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The women at the orphanage did all they could. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They managed to retrieve his mother's blouse, his father's watch, and his parents wedding rings. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wears them and never takes them off. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All attempts to help him are useless. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sits broken for 6 years until that night. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A man and woman break in a catch sight of his face at the brink of midnight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They hold a knife to his neck and threaten to kill him if he makes a sound. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One part of his mind wants to die and join his parents- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But the other knows that that wasn't what they wanted him to do. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So he silently leaves with his kidnappers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They forced him into an improper job- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A job he accepted but despised as the years progressed on. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The owner of the club only allowed it because he knew that his face was bound to grab the attention of customers. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The fellow workers were always kind to him and tried to protect him from the clutches of the filth that roamed the place. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was very grateful to them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They were practically the only people he could truly consider as family. </em>
</p><p><em>"</em> <em>Jaebum are you sure you don't want me to drop you home? It's pretty late." </em></p><p>
  <em>The aforementioned only nods with a small smile, glancing at his father's watch on his wrist. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm good. Thank you though." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>In truth, he never went home right away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaebum knew that all that would greet him was the stench of alcohol and derogatory words. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wanders down the street slowly, allowing the crisp air of the night to soothe him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Footsteps sound from behind him and it doesn't take him to realize that he was being followed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn't turn to look back, or quicken his pace. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oblivious. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He needed to play oblivious. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Such a pretty thing." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He hears the sound of a man's voice and he only hopes for a miracle to come his way. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>How long could they keep up this game of chase? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Bummie! I thought I told you I would be grabbing dinner." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>An arm slings around his shoulder and he looks from the corner of his eye, seeing a handsome yet familiar face smiling at him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His miracle had come. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm sorry- I was just really hungry." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They hear the footsteps stop, but they keep walking. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaebum had no destination, but the man with him did. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Do you remember me Jaebum?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He shakes his head and the male sighs but nods. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'm Park Jinyoung- From 10 years ago? Your best friend?" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then things begin to click in Jaebum's mind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He recalls the small, fair faced Jinyoung smiling at him at the playground. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Jinyoung..." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He's never felt so vulnerable. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Everything went wrong." </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Change </b>☽◦☾</p>
<p>
  <em>He sits on the couch of Jinyoung's home. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The other had so kindly invited him to spend the night, to which Jaebum didn't refuse. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Anywhere was better than his 'home'. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"It's been long since I've seen you." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jinyoung sets a cup of tea in front of the other, sitting beside him as he waits for Jaebum to say something. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Losing your parents makes you lose track of time." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The other sighs at Jaebum's words. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'm sorry you had to go through that Jaebum. You won't believe how much I cried when my parents told me you were being put into an orphanage." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The room goes silent, but Jaebum can't help but feel a little guilty. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'm sorry Jinyoung." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jinyoung looks at him with confusion, "why are you apologizing to me?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He places the cup of tea down. Jaebum doesn't meet Jinyoung's eyes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I don't know if I'm being honest." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He finally manages to look up, and there's tears in his own. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"It just feels right." The other goes to bring his hand and wipe away the salty droplets of water that began to cascade Jaebum's pale cheeks. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He notices that the other was more thinner than he remembered. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Are you eating well Jaebum?" Jinyoung questions carefully, waiting for the other's reaction. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jaebum only stares at the necklace that hung around the other's neck. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"You still kept the friendship necklace I gave you?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jinyoung places a hand over the silver charm before nodding. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"It gave me hope that I would find you again someday- And here you are in front of me." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then he shakes his head, "but don't change the subject. What happened to you?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>So Jaebum tells him everything. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He confides all his pain and misery into Jinyoung, because he really had no one to trust. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"This is unacceptable." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The other gets up and Jaebum looks at him in confusion. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Jinyoung where are you going?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jinyoung looks at him, his face questioning if the other was serious. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Jaebum we have to do something about this- This is wrong for something like this to happen to you." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The older eyes widen before he shakes his head and grabs Jinyoung's arm. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"No Jinyoung don't! They're just... misunderstood," he says quietly and the younger sits himself down, but looks at Jaebum questioningly. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Misunderstood? From what you told me- They sound like they need to be seen by the police." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The pale male goes to grab both of Jinyoung's hands with his bruised, faded ones. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Jinyoung please... They're all I have right now. I would have nowhere to stay-"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "You can stay with us. My parents won't hesitate to take you in- You know that." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jaebum smiles at him but shakes his head. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"No Jinyoung, I'd just be a burden. Can we just keep this between us? Please?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The younger seems hesitant, but he nods with a sigh. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Fine, but you're welcome to stay over anytime you want okay? Do you have a phone? I'll save my number so-" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Jinyoung hyung? Who are you talking to so early in the morning?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jinyoung's younger brother comes out of his room, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Jaebum's here, </em>
  <b>
    <em>Yugyeom</em>
  </b>
  <em>. You remember him right?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A look of recognition forms on the younger's face as he notices the male sitting beside his brother. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Jaebum? As in Jaebum hyung?" he asks in confirmation, to which Jinyoung simply nods. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yugyeom stares at Jaebum like he was something that would be found at a museum. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It seemed like he couldn't believe his own eyes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"You've grown well, Yugyeom," the older says with a gentle smile, "I'm proud of you."</em>
</p>
<p>☽◦☾<em><br/></em></p>
<p>
  <em>"Where were you last night?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"At a friend's house." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"What were you doing there?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Catching up." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Catching up-" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Forget about that! Where's the money?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> Jaebum sighs and fishes out the small wad of cash from his bag, handing it to his 'father'. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The man takes it in his hand and stares at him before holding it in front of him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"What is this?"</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em> "The money." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"That's it? That's all that face of yours could make?" </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Business was slow yesterday." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The man runs a hand through his hair before muttering something and leaving the room. Jaebum's 'mother' turns back to him. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"Look what you've done- You upset your poor </em>
  <b>
    <em>father</em>
  </b>
  <em>." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>He's not my father and you're not my mother- </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I'm sorry." </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>You both will never be my parents. </em>
  </b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The woman only scoffs and sends him to his room, to which he obliges. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The apartment they stayed in was shabby and falling apart, the man and woman always managing to somehow get by their lease every month. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jaebum sits on the floor beside the mattress that was technically his bed. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>His eyes looked outside the cracked window, watching as the sun began to rise into the sky. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>I can change them</em>
  </b>
  <em>. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He looks down at his hands, balling them up in fists.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>I can change them</em>
  </b>
  <em>.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Illusion </b>☽◦☾<b><em><br/></em></b></p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Sugar. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Milk. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Honey. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>Mark would be lying if he said he never thought about the scent the angel carried. </p><p>Maybe even how he tasted- </p><p>Most likely sweet. </p><p>“I thought you quit smoking.” </p><p>He takes a drag from the rolled up cigarette between his fingers. </p><p>His lips pursed together and released the smoke that filled his senses. </p><p>Mark smelled like <b><em>cigarettes, apples, and cinnamon</em></b>. </p><p>A strong combination of the past that he could never leave behind. </p><p>“I only break out of habit when I’m stressed.” </p><p>Jackson is silent for a moment before whispering, “so all the time then.” </p><p>The older of the two doesn’t say anything but stare off into the vast city. </p><p>Jackson takes his silence as a yes. </p><p>“Mark I’m really worried for you .” </p><p>“I know.” </p><p>“What are you going to do?” </p><p>“What do you think?”</p><p>“Are you still going to look for him?” </p><p>“My angel is out there, equally broken as me. I need to save him.” </p><p>“How can you save him if you can’t save yourself from… <b><em>yourself</em></b><em>.</em>” </p><p>Jackson brought up a valid point. </p><p>How did he expect to play as the hero, when all he’s been was a villain to himself? </p><p>“Mark I trust that you make the right decisions,” the other says with a sigh, “you’re grown up enough to know how to function as an adult. I don’t want you to think I’m being overbearing.” </p><p>Mark finds it funny how Jackson could sometimes be the parent that he never had. </p><p>Though the other was younger than him, he seemed to possess more maturity than he would ever have. </p><p>Then again- Mark only blames the suppressive behavior his parents had brought upon him. </p><p>He always feared being rejected, so he burdened his feelings till this day. </p><p>Mark can’t go a minute without crying when he hears his mother’s messages. </p><p>She sounded so sad and desperate for her <b><em>perfect </em></b>son, which is why it pained him so much. </p><p>He wasn’t the perfect son she thought and knew. </p><p>“I promised to meet up with a friend…” Jackson says from the door, “you’ll be okay right?” </p><p>Mark chuckles a little. </p><p>As if he knew what ‘okay’ was. </p><p>“I’ll be <em>okay </em>Jackson- Don’t let my angst self stop you.” </p><p>He can sense the other’s hesitation, but he hears the door close a few seconds later. </p><p>The cigarette falls from his fingers and onto the concrete of the balcony. </p><p>He watches it burn itself out. </p><p>Mark can’t stop thinking about his angel. </p><p>Even if he tried to. </p><p>The thought there was someone like him- </p><p>Who was broken and felt hopeless. </p><p>He sighs before shaking his head and going back inside. </p><p>His body is sprawled out on the couch, absentmindedly staring up at his blank ceiling. </p><p>What else could he write for his unpublished story? </p><p>What else can he remember about the angel? </p><p>What else could he do? </p><p>His mind comes up with questions- </p><p>To answers he can’t reach.</p><p>It was only afternoon, yet the sky looked so dark. </p><p>He expected a thunderstorm. </p><p>Possibly even the power going out. </p><p>His hand goes to reach his laptop on the floor, pulling it onto his lap. </p><p>The light of the screen illuminates his face as he logs in, the sound of his fingers tapping the keys echoing in the quiet space.</p><p>---</p><p>
  <em>My eyes go empty when I look off into the city. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The dreams I have of my angel aren’t enough to satisfy my craving for interaction. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To touch. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To smell. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To taste. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I want to try it all. </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Touch </em>
  </b>
  <em>the fragile, yet luminescent, pale face. </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Smell </em>
  </b>
  <em>the sweetness that’s offered. </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Taste </em>
  </b>
  <em>every inch of skin. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t know how much longer I would last without him near me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m just an amateur writer- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What could I possibly offer to this angel? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My eternal love? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wouldn’t live forever. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m certain that I must be cursed somehow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Like this is reality’s way of telling me that all my feelings are just a waste. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That this angel isn’t even </em>
  <b>
    <em>real</em>
  </b>
  <em>. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That I’m chasing after a mirage. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A vision. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>An illusion…</em>
</p><p>--- </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>French </b>☽◦☾</p><p>Mark’s brother decides to drop in the next morning.</p><p>The last time Mark saw him in person was when he was passing by his school during graduation. </p><p>He’s never felt so proud of someone before, seeing the diploma triumphantly held in his younger brother’s hands. </p><p>However- Mark didn’t attend the younger’s graduation. </p><p>He was driving to his new space, which was conveniently making him pass the school.</p><p>“Still haven’t quit smoking huh?” the younger says while glancing at the pack of cigarettes that laid carelessly on the counter. </p><p>Mark only sighs while going to grab them and shove them into a random drawer. </p><p>“I’m trying okay?” </p><p>His younger brother only looks at him questioningly, “you’ve barely called me this week- Something on your mind?” </p><p>There’s a lot of things on Mark’s mind that he’d rather not share.</p><p>“How do I know that you won’t report what I say back to mom?” </p><p>“You always do this.”</p><p>“Do what?” </p><p>The younger motions his hands in a manner that was supposed to represent something. </p><p>“Why can’t you trust me Mark hyung? We’ve always had each other’s backs.” </p><p>“I do trust you <b><em>BamBam</em></b>. I still do.” </p><p>“Then what’s stopping you?” </p><p>“... I can’t answer that.” </p><p>BamBam sighs before nodding in understanding. </p><p>“I’m not going to force you- Also considering that you’re my hyung.” </p><p>Mark chuckles a bit before sitting himself down, taking a good look at the other. </p><p>BamBam had completely changed his image from highschool. </p><p>His hair was dyed. </p><p>His ears were pierced (Mark thinks he might have seen a tongue piercing- He’s not sure). </p><p>He wore a light face of makeup and his clothes were rather bold and flashy. </p><p>“How’s it like being the center of attention on campus?” he asks out of curiosity, seeing BamBam’s eyes sparkle with interest. </p><p>Here he goes. </p><p>“Honestly it’s pretty nice once you get used to it. Most people find me approachable and I turn heads when I show up. I feel like fucking royalty.” </p><p>“I can imagine.” </p><p>He really can’t. </p><p>His imagination was all over the place. </p><p>BamBam goes to fish something out of his bag, sliding a pair of headphones and a notebook towards the older.</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p> Mark takes the items in his hand, seeing both being brand new. </p><p>The younger shrugs, “I thought I’d get you something since I missed your birthday last year.” </p><p>“I missed your graduation.” </p><p>“Touché.” </p><p>“Do you still take French?” </p><p>BamBam looks at him with curiosity. </p><p>“Yeah why?” </p><p>“I need your help with something.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>
  <em>I sit at the edge of the balcony in Paris. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My angel appears beside me and we sit in silence together. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>C'est beau</em>
  </b>
  <em>.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sentence slips out of his small, pink lips and I can’t help but ask softly: </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What does that mean?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes look at me with such fondness that I almost didn't even care for words anymore. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>It’s beautiful</em>
  </b>
  <em>,” he replies while staring off into the star dotted sky. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>Cette vue est magnifique. This view is beautiful</em>
  </b>
  <em>.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I stare at his ethereal face, reality only becoming faint buzzing sounds in my ears. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His hair moves gently from the warm summer breeze, the sweetness of the air mixing with his own. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“La vue devant moi est la plus belle (The view in front of me is the most beautiful).” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turns to be, face flushed in embarrassment and eyes twinkling in surprise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>You know French?</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I shake my head, “no- Just that one line for you.”</em>
</p><p>[Save?]</p><p>[<b>Yes</b>] [No]</p><p>---</p><p>“So are you going to tell me who this angel is, or leave me in the dark?” </p><p>“Mmm sounds tempting-” </p><p>“Mark hyung!” </p><p>Mark chuckles before glancing at his phone, “maybe another time- I have somewhere to be.” </p><p>BamBam looks at him suspiciously. </p><p>“And where is that exactly?” </p><p>“A cafe.” </p><p>“For?” </p><p>“Coffee- What else?” </p><p>He smiles at the older. </p><p>“Just curious hyung- We can go together and you can tell me everything over a nice hot cup of <em>café.</em>” </p><p>“Is that French or Spanish?” </p><p>BamBam shrugs at him. </p><p>“Technically it’s both.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Time </b>☽◦☾</p><p>He doesn’t tell everything in detail. BamBam only nods along his words, but Mark can tell that he’s not retaining anything. </p><p>“You’ve never fallen in love since-” </p><p>“Don’t remind me.” </p><p>The younger closes his mouth instantly, casually sipping his drink.</p><p>Mark surveys the small cafe, seeing it being practically empty. </p><p>“I have a friend who works here later,” BamBam says while glancing up at his brother, quirking his eyebrow slightly. </p><p>Mark chuckles slightly, “at least you have one of those.” </p><p>The younger looks at him questioningly, “then what the hell is Jackson then?” </p><p>The answer was simple. </p><p>“He’s family.” </p><p>BamBam doesn’t disagree. </p><p>“You still haven’t told me about this ‘angel’, hyung,” he says while looking at Mark with anticipation, “we came here for a reason.” </p><p>The older is slightly hesitant, but he decides to put back trust in his own brother. </p><p>“Just don’t tell-” </p><p>“Yeah yeah- Don’t tell mom and dad right? Trust me, I won’t.” </p><p>Mark has been stabbed in the back by his own family before- </p><p>But he finds truth in BamBam’s words. </p><p>So he gives more detail of the story of his forbidden angel that he’s been desperately trying to find, noting the younger’s change of expressions from his words. </p><p>“Damn hyung,” BamBam sighs before looking at the other, “that’s quite a love story you have.” </p><p>
  <em>Love story… </em>
</p><p>This was <b><em>far </em></b>from a love story. </p><p>This was something else. </p><p>Something Mark couldn’t quite put his finger on. </p><p>“I don’t know if I’m running out of time or not,” he says while laying his head on the table, “it’s killing me with every second.” </p><p>The younger sits quietly while looking at his hyung in distraught. </p><p>He really wanted to help Mark in some way- </p><p>But all he could do for now was keep his promise to him. </p><p>BamBam hoped that some kind of miracle would come his way. </p><p>“You’re smart hyung,” he tries to say in reassurance, “I know you’ll figure something out- <em>Don’t lose hope</em>.” </p><p>Mark lifts his head up and his mouth goes to contradict BamBam’s statement- </p><p>But he stops himself. </p><p>“Thank you BamBam.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>
  <em>“I’m scared.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why are you scared?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re a human.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re an angel.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t understand-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then help me understand.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My angel sifts the golden specks of sand through his delicate fingers, gently smoothing his hand against the sandy ground. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I only watch him in silence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t say anything and neither does he. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There’s…” he says quietly while not meeting my eyes, “there’s time.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hum in familiarity at the word, “indeed there is time.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My angel shakes his head, “no that’s not all.” </em>
</p><p><em>His eyes look up at the clear water of the ocean, “I don’t have any boundaries with time- Time is </em> <b> <em>infinite </em> </b> <em>for me.” </em></p><p>
  <em>I catch a glimpse of regret in his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I knew what he meant. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My mother said this to me once,” I say and grab his attention as he looks at me. </em>
</p><p><em>“</em> <b> <em>Qui vivra verra</em> </b> <em>- I never understood what it meant.” </em></p><p>
  <em>I hear him sigh softly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Lay down with me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We lay on the sand, eyes focused on the blue of the sky. </em>
</p><p><em>“It’s a French proverb that means that ‘</em> <b> <em>he/she who lives, shall see.</em> </b> <em>’ It’s used when an outcome is unpredictable or uncertain.” </em></p><p>
  <em>I think back to the moment my mother told me this phrase. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was at the time my father was in the war, leaving us to wonder if he would make it or not. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I remember asking her if she thought he would come back, which is when she looked out the window and muttered the phrase softly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve lived for a long time.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My angel moves his hand and it gently brushes my own. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve seen everything.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Everything?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He gives a curt nod. </em>
</p><p><em>“</em> <b> <em>Tout </em> </b> <em>(Everything).” </em></p><p>
  <em>“So you’ve seen the future?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My angel doesn’t respond- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And we don’t speak after.</em>
</p><p>[Save?]</p><p> [<b>Yes</b>] [No]</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Moon</b>☽◦☾</p><p>Mark flips through the pages of the book he was reading, hearing the door to his apartment open quietly. </p><p>“Where have you been Jackson?” </p><p>He doesn’t need to look up, hearing the other sigh while closing the door. </p><p>“Meeting up with an old friend of mine,” Jackson says while pulling off his shoes, “he moved into the city yesterday.” </p><p>The older closes his book and sets it aside, watching as Jackson goes to rummage through the cabinets in his small kitchen space. </p><p>“What’s his name?” </p><p>“<b><em>Youngjae</em></b>- We go way back.” </p><p>“How far is ‘way back’ exactly?” </p><p>“Starting from diapers- Did you finish all the spicy ramen?” </p><p>“Yeah I did.”</p><p> Jackson turns around, looking at the other questioningly. </p><p>“Were you stress eating again?” </p><p>Mark shrugs in response, stretching while the other rolls his eyes at him. </p><p>“I met up with BamBam this morning,” the older says, shifting the topic. </p><p>Jackson’s face lights up at the mention of the younger’s name, a proud grin drawn onto his lips. </p><p>“Ah my student- How is he doing?” the other says and Mark rolls his eyes at him, picking up his book from the couch. </p><p>“You were an awful teacher.” </p><p>“That’s your opinion- He learned how to throw it back because of me.” </p><p>“Like I said: Awful. Teacher.” </p><p>Jackson only pouts in response, watching as Mark goes to retire back into his room. </p><p>“You got inspiration to write?” the other says and Mark gives a curt nod. </p><p>Just as he’s about to enter his room, he turns to Jackson. </p><p>“By the way- BamBam and his friend want to meet up for drinks this weekend. You can bring Youngjae along if he’s interested.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>
  <em>“Do you love me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Of course I love you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Do you swear?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I swear by the moon.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My angel shakes his head and takes my hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We look up at the full moon that glowed in the midst of darkness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t swear by the moon.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I look at him questiongly, his hands never leaving mine. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s wrong with the moon?” I ask and he looks into my eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The whole galaxy resides in his own. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The moon changes,” he says softly while leaning against my shoulder, “I don’t want you to swear on something that always changes.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“So what do I swear on to show that my love for you is not a mirage. That I’m real- Everything is real.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wait for his answer, my fingers threading through his strands of soft, black hair. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Swear on death.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I halt my movements and he looks up at me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Is that a little morbid to swear upon?” I ask, and I know he can feel my doubt. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He knows how much I want to prove my worth to him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t change death,” he says calmly and takes my face into his hands, “but death can change you.”</em>
</p><p>[Save?]</p><p class="">[<b>Yes</b>] [No]</p><p>---</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>“Off to see Youngjae again?” </p><p>Jackson nods and Mark nods back at him. </p><p>“I’ll ask him about this weekend if that’s what you’re wondering. </p><p>He wasn’t wondering- </p><p>But it wouldn’t hurt to just say yes. </p><p>“Yeah- I just want to let BamBam know if he’s coming or not.” </p><p>Jackson only smiles and pats him on the shoulder before leaving Mark alone in the apartment. </p><p>The older glances at the shopping list that he had in his hand. </p><p>He contemplated on just staying back and aimlessly switching through channels, but he had a stomach to feed. </p><p>Also including Jackson’s for that matter. </p><p>The alarm for his phone rings at 8 o’clock and he leaves the apartment to be empty. </p><p>
  <b>Tick. </b>
</p><p>
  <em>Tock. </em>
</p><p><span class="u">Tick Tock.</span> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Hope </b>☽◦☾</p><p>“Are you sure you can go back?” </p><p>The real question was: Did he really want to go back anymore? </p><p>Wasn’t he getting tired of the mistreatment? </p><p>“I’m sure Jinyoung,” Jaebum says with a forced smile, “<em>I’ll be fine</em>.” </p><p>Jinyoung can see past the other, but he doesn’t say anything but nod. </p><p>“You’re always welcome back.” </p><p>The older smiles at him. </p><p>“I know Jinyoung. I know.” </p><p>He closes the door behind him and feels the cold air from outside stroke his face. </p><p>The feeling of uneasiness resides in his stomach at the thought of facing his so-called parents in his ‘prison’. </p><p>It was always the same routine: </p><p>They question about his whereabouts, the man asks for the cash and cusses him out for not bringing much, the woman blames him for upsetting her husband, and he sits on the mattress of his rundown room. </p><p>He knows that Jinyoung was watching him from the window, and he decided to leave before the other realized that he was hesitating on going back. </p><p>However- He didn’t have to go ‘home’ just yet. </p><p>There was something he wanted to do first.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>The stares he got from the passersby as he walked past didn’t go unnoticed. </p><p>He ignores them, focusing on his main task at hand. </p><p>If he was lucky enough, he might be able to cross paths with that red haired stranger again. </p><p>Jaebum roams the streets aimlessly, the color of red seeming nonexistent. </p><p>He fights the urge to give up, but he knows that his hope was out there somewhere. </p><p>His fingers grip out onto the strap of his bag when his eyes meet the clock in the center of the plaza. </p><p><em>12 pm- </em>They were expecting him. </p><p>There was no time to keep looking- </p><p>He would just have to come back later. </p><p>Which he knew would be <b><em>very </em></b>soon. </p><p>Jaebum’s feet trudge with dread as he turns in the direction of his ‘prison’, expect that of what was to come. </p><p>Every street corner he turns, he’s seemingly getting further and further away from civilization. </p><p>One or two cars drove down on the road adjacent to him, the building looking more rundown than the one further into the heart of the city. </p><p>There were no shops. </p><p>There were no attractions. </p><p>There was absolutely nothing that would make <em>anyone </em>want to live in such a neighborhood. </p><p>Except criminals hiding from the police. </p><p>More specifically- His so called “parents”. </p><p>Jaebum still feels unnerved by the atmosphere, even though he’s been coming back and forth from here for a while now. </p><p>The sound of glass breaking reaches his ears when he arrives in front of the rundown looking building. </p><p>The man has already started his angry drinking. </p><p>He takes a breath while mustering the courage to knock on the door. </p><p>The woman’s frazzled face appears in front of him, her eyes widening at the sight of Jaebum’s face. </p><p>“You can’t be here right now,” she says quickly while sticking her hand out, “just give me the money and-” </p><p>“YOU!” </p><p>The door is also ripped off its hinges when the husband shows his face, face red and eyes angry. </p><p>“Where the fuck have you been! Where’s my fucking money!” </p><p><em>You mean </em><b><em>my </em></b><em>money- </em>“I took the night shift and here’s the money.” </p><p>His hands are empty when the man snatches the wads of cash out of his hand. </p><p>“You’re lucky your drawings went through my rage and not yourself-” </p><p>“Wait, my drawings?” </p><p>Jaebum shoves past them, heart racing in fury and disbelief. </p><p>
  <em>No, please not my drawings- </em>
</p><p>It’s too much for him to wish for. </p><p>He sees them scattered all around his ‘room’, some torn to shreds, some crumpled up, and some stained with beer. </p><p>There’s broken glass too. </p><p>“Clean this up-” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>The man looks at him in shock, before it’s replaced with rage.</p><p> “No? What the fuck do you mean no?” </p><p>Jaebum doesn’t know where the sudden boost of courage had come from, but he puts his foot down for the first time. </p><p>“You had no fucking right to ruin my things.” </p><p>The harsh sound of a slap echoes through the room. </p><p>His cheek is red and slowly becoming swollen. </p><p>Jaebum can’t let the pain win. </p><p>He’s bleeding. </p><p><em>Can’t let the pain win</em>. </p><p>He touches his lip that was scraped by his teeth. </p><p>There’s blood. </p><p>“Look what you’ve done! Now how is he going to get the attraction of the customers with a cut lip!” the woman yells and the husband only puts a deaf ear to her. </p><p>“Get out and come back when you know better.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>It’s cold. </p><p>He holds his bag close to him, walking through the empty, dim lit street. </p><p>There’s barely a soul in sight and cars pass by him one by one. </p><p>It’s cold. </p><p>That’s all that his mind can think of. </p><p>He doesn’t have anything. </p><p>A bench sits a few feet away from him in front of a small inn. </p><p>Jaebum contemplates sitting or not- He feels weak. </p><p>His body collapses on the metal that was more colder than the air, making him shudder. </p><p>He puts his hand into his back, going to call Jinyoung- </p><p>But he stops. </p><p>
  <em>I shouldn’t… It’s late. </em>
</p><p>So he doesn’t. </p><p>He reaches for something else. </p><p>A sketchbook that one of his fellow workers at the club had given him. </p><p>
  <em>“I heard that drawing helps soothe a person’s pain. I’ve seen you doodle on the napkins- You have a gift, Jaebum-ah.” </em>
</p><p>He taps the wooden pencil against the paper, staring off for a stroke of inspiration. </p><p>Then it hits him.</p><p> The person he was searching for. </p><p>The person who made him feel differently. </p><p>The person that he never knew the name to. </p><p><b><em>His hope</em></b>. </p><p>Jaebum can only faintly recall the male’s face, but he does have the image of the male walking from him in the other direction. </p><p>When they lost each other in the sea of people. </p><p>Did the male feel the spark he felt? </p><p>He sketches eagerly, running lines all on the blank paper with a small smile on his face. </p><p>His hope had managed to make him smile, despite the circumstance he was in. </p><p>It truly was a miracle. </p><p>His hand stops moving and he takes a good look at what he’s drawn.</p><p>It’s a start.</p><p> He signs it with his initials. </p><p>“Oh dear! What are you doing out here in the cold?” </p><p>A woman approaches him, shocked at seeing him sitting outside on the bench. </p><p>He’s never interacted with strangers before. </p><p>“I…” </p><p>No words seem to come from his mouth. </p><p>She shakes her head, “no no, this won’t do.” </p><p>The woman takes his left hand as his right hand scrambles to put his things back into his back and sling it over his shoulder.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>The woman introduces herself to be Han Seolhyun, the owner of the inn Jaebum had sat in front of. </p><p>“You look so cold and hungry! Whatever were you doing out at this hour?” she asks while handing him a plate of freshly baked cookies. </p><p>The smell makes Jaebum miss his real mother. </p><p>“I-I was going for a walk…” </p><p>A blanket is wrapped around his trembling shoulders, Seolhyun coming to sit next to him. </p><p>“It’s a strange time to be walking, especially in this weather,” she responds but smiles, “but I’m not the one to judge.” </p><p>Jaebum only nods at her while taking a bite of the dessert. </p><p>It’s sweet. </p><p>“Do you have a place to stay, dear?”</p><p> He hesitates before shaking his head. </p><p>The man wouldn’t let him in and considering the state his room was in- </p><p>It would nearly be impossible. </p><p>Seolhyun nods in acknowledgement, fishing out a pair of keys from the pocket of her apron. </p><p>“Room 11614.” </p><p>She places it in his hand and he looks at her. </p><p>“I-I don’t have enough money-” </p><p>“Don’t be silly- I’m not going to make you pay when you were out there hungry and cold. Go rest and we’ll talk in the morning okay?” </p><p>Jaebum nods while slowly getting up. </p><p>“Thank you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>Piano</b>☽◦☾</p><p>His phone rings the next morning, causing him to stir awake. </p><p>Jinyoung’s name appears on the screen and he debates on whether or not to answer. </p><p>Then again- The younger would most likely assume the worst if he didn’t.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jinyoung</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jaebum</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey Jinyoung…”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jinyoung</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hey Jaebum- How did it go yesterday?”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jaebum</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“... Nothing new.”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jinyoung</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“Did he hurt you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jaebum</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No.”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jinyoung</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jaebum.”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jaebum</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s just a scratch…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t worry.”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jinyoung</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“”When it comes to him-”</em>
</p><p><em>“I know damn well that it isn’t ‘</em> <b> <em>just a scratch</em> </b> <em>’.”</em></p><p>
  <b> <em>Jaebum</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“Jinyoung I’m fine- Really.”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jinyoung</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Okay… But come over today .”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jaebum</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll see you later then.”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Jinyoung</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em>“Stay safe.”</em>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>Call ended.</em> </b>
</p><p>“Can I come in, Jaebum-ssi?” Seolhyun asks on the other side of the door. </p><p>Jaebum gathers his things together before opening the door, revealing the aforementioned with a set of clothes and some breakfast. </p><p>“I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation,” she says as he takes the items from her, “but I heard that you have a light injury?.” </p><p>The cut on his lip had already healed, but he was glad it was too dark for her to notice right away last night. </p><p>“Oh… It’s nothing.” </p><p>“Are you sure? It’s dangerous if you don’t tend to an injury right away.” </p><p>Jaebum nods at her and she doesn’t press the matter forward. </p><p>“So, last night I thought of a way you could repay me,” Seolhyun says while motioning at the set of clothes she had given, “you can work in the Inn for a few hours- Is that okay with you?” </p><p>He glances down at his mother’s blouse, not really willing to part with it. </p><p>“I promise I’ll keep your things safe,” she says with a reassuring smile and he lightly toys with the dial of his father's watch before nodding his head.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>The work he was given wasn’t too overbearing. </p><p>He tended to the guests who were rather kind towards him, cleaned up the tables and floors, and Seolhyun insisted that she teach him how to cook something. </p><p>“This is a family favorite,” she says while pulling out a piece of paper from a rustic looking folder, “have you ever had Tteokbokki before?” </p><p>
  <em>When my parents were still alive- </em>
</p><p>“It’s been a while.”</p><p> Seolhyun pats him on the shoulder, “well then you’re certainly in for a treat.” </p><p>He watches as she rummages through the rows of cabinets, pulling out different assortments of ingredients.</p><p>---</p><p>
  <em>“You need to let the rice cakes soak in warm water for 10 minutes so they get nice and soft.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Eomma, the rice cakes can’t swim!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaebum’s mother chuckles at the younger’s innocence and ruffles his hair. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Then- Will the fish cakes swim instead?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaebum nods his head proudly, “the fish cakes have fish in it, and fishes swim in water.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Though his logic wasn’t right, it made his mother smile widely and pinch his cheeks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re such a clever boy, Jaebum-”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>---</em>
</p><p>“Jaebum-ssi?” </p><p>He returns back to reality, not in his mother’s kitchen anymore. </p><p>“Sorry Seolhyun-ssi, what did you say?” </p><p>“I was going to ask if you could get the chili paste from the drawer to make the tteokbokki sauce- Are you feeling okay?” </p><p>
  <em>“Chili paste is what gives the tteokbokki flavor, Jaebummie. Remember that.” </em>
</p><p>“Yeah, I’m just fine.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>The antique piano that sits near the stairs catches his attention, an invisible force pulling him towards it. </p><p>It gives him an oddly familiar feeling, like he’s seen this piano somewhere before. </p><p>He carefully slides up the cover and uncovers the array of black and white keys. </p><p>His fingers press down on three keys, hearing the chord hum in his ears.</p><p>---</p><p>
  <em>“This is F-Minor. Notice how the notes blend together like so.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaebum’s father plays the keys so effortlessly, making his eyes widen in astonishment. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sound it produces makes him feel safe and comforted. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What song is this, Appa?” he asks while sitting behind him on the piano bench, “it’s pretty.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His father smiles at him, while helping him guide his fingers on the keys. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“River Flows in You by Yiruma.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can you teach me?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>---</em>
</p><p>His fingers play the melody from memory, and his eyes begin to tear up slightly. </p><p>Some of the guests have seemingly caught sight of him playing the piano, carefully crowding around him and watching him. </p><p>Listening. </p><p>
  <em>“Gradually press and release the sustaining pedal to give it an echoing effect.”</em>
</p><p>People are murmuring things that he can’t hear from the music he creates with the piano. </p><p>Then he stops. </p><p>Jaebum looks at his hands and hears clapping around him. </p><p>“That was beautiful!” </p><p>“Where did you learn to play like that?” </p><p>“Your parents must be so proud.” </p><p><em>“We’ll always be proud of you Jaebum. No matter what happens</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾<b> Art </b>☽◦☾</p><p>The moment Jinyoung looks at his face, his expression immediately turns into that of worry. </p><p>“No bruises… That’s good-”</p><p> “I need to go back to the club tonight.” </p><p>The younger looks at Jaebum before shaking his head in protest, “no, I can’t let you go tonight after yesterday.” </p><p>The older only sighs before gently brushing Jinyoung’s hands away from his face. </p><p>“It’s not up to you to decide, Jinyoung. I <b><em>have </em></b>to go.” </p><p>They sit in silence at Jaebum’s words. </p><p>“I wish you would let me report them already.” </p><p>“It’s going to take some time, Jinyoung. I- I know they’ll fix their habits soon.”</p><p> It’s false hope- They both know it. </p><p>“What… What happened when you returned last night?” Jinyoung asks hesitantly, and a part of Jaebum wants to tell him everything. </p><p>However, he doesn’t want to burden the other. </p><p>“He just yelled at me like usual and like you said- No bruises.” </p><p>The younger narrows his eyes at him, Jaebum swallowing nervously. </p><p>“Jaebum hyung!” </p><p>Yugyeom enters the room with a smile on his face, approaching them while covered in paint. </p><p>They look at him curiously and he glances at his clothes before rubbing his neck in embarrassment, “ah sorry, I was in the midst of my art project.” </p><p>Jaebum smiles at him fondly, remembering the same passion for art he had when he was the younger’s age. </p><p>He still did now. </p><p>“Jaebum is a great artist,” Jinyoung says while nudging the other with a smirk, “I still kept all the artwork you made.” </p><p>The older looks at him in surprise, “you did?” </p><p>The other nods in confirmation, motioning Jaebum to follow him. </p><p>Yugyeom joins as well. </p><p>They enter Jinyoung’s room, which hit Jaebum with a strong feeling of nostalgia. </p><p>It was neat and tidy, just like the person that took care of it. </p><p>
  <em>Some things never change. </em>
</p><p>Jinyoung pulls out a folder from his desk. </p><p>It was sleek and black, looking as if it was brand new. </p><p>“I’ve been holding onto these for a while,” he says and looks at Jaebum with a small smile, “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to see them again.” </p><p>The older stares at the folder. </p><p>Jinyoung knew him well. </p><p>He wasn’t sure if he was ready to see them. </p><p>“Maybe we can just look at one,” Yugyeom suggests while placing a comforting hand on Jaebum’s shoulder, “if Jaebum hyung is comfortable.” </p><p>It was a start. </p><p>Jinyoung gives him a look that asks if it was okay- </p><p>So he nods. </p><p>   His eyes follow the other’s hands as he opens the folder carefully and pulls out a piece of paper. </p><p>“Jaebum…”</p><p> “I’m okay.” </p><p>He holds the drawing of his mother in hands. </p><p>It would be a lie if he said that he didn’t miss her. </p><p>And his father. </p><p>“Hyung… You’re crying,” Yugyeom points out while handing him a tissue. </p><p>Jaebum didn’t even notice. </p><p>He takes the tissue from Yugyeom’s hand and wipes away his tears, Jinyoung carefully taking the drawing from his hands. </p><p>“I think that’s enough for today,” he says while putting the folder back in his desk and facing them. </p><p>Jaebum nods in agreement. </p><p>“Is it a bad time to ask if you guys can help with my art project?” </p><p>They chuckle at Yugyeom’s question, allowing the younger to guide them into his room. </p><p>Compared to Jinyoung’s room- </p><p>Yugyeom’s was the embodiment of a fine arts student. </p><p>Posters hung on the walls, various cds laid on a table, clothes piled in a corner- And a huge canvas against the wall. </p><p>“Mr. Jeon, my art teacher, assigned us an end of the year project,” Yugyeom explains while pushing aside some paint cans. </p><p>“We have to make an art piece that connects to our word, along with a short paragraph of how the word connects with the Vincent Van Gogh painting we chose.”</p><p> Jaebum looks at the painting in progress, noticing the use of pastel colors. </p><p>“My partner is taking care of the paragraph while I do the art piece- Our word was <em>love</em>.” </p><p>Yugyeom picks up a brush and palette of paint, “he said that two of his students last year, I think their names were Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi or something, had the same word and did a really good job with it. They used <b><em>Sunflowers</em></b> as their inspiration.” </p><p>“And what did you and your partner choose?” </p><p>The younger begins to paint white stars over the dried black paint, “we chose <em>Starry Night</em>. It sounded romantic according to him.”</p><p> Jinyoung sits on the younger’s bed, Jaebum watching Yugyeom’s paint strokes carefully. </p><p>“There’s an extra paintbrush on my dresser if you want to help out, Jaebum hyung,” Yuyeom says with a smile while intently focusing on the canvas. </p><p>The older nods while grabbing the wooden tool, examining the bristles and dried paint. </p><p>He starts painting the rest of the black sky.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>“For 1 hour, we got a lot done.” </p><p>They stood in front of the painting that was still unfinished, but it looked breathtaking. </p><p>“We did a pretty good job.” </p><p>“We? You didn’t do shit, Jinyoung.” </p><p>Jinyoung rolls his eyes but chuckles in response, “touche.” </p><p>Jaebum’s eyes catch sight of the clock on the wall. </p><p>He needed to head to the club. </p><p>“I have to go-” </p><p>“To the club right?” </p><p>Jaebum sighs while nodding in confirmation, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. </p><p>“Before you go,” Yugyeom says while dusting himself off, “my partner for art and I are planning to go for drinks with his brother and his brother’s friends. You guys wanna join?” </p><p>Jinyoung is the first to shake his head. </p><p>“I wish I could, but I’m tutoring some kids at the library.” </p><p>The younger nods at his brother before turning to Jaebum, “what about you, Jaebum hyung?” </p><p>Jaebum shakes his head too. </p><p>“I have to work at the club this weekend too.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>☽◦☾ <b>Distance</b> ☽◦☾</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The familiar scent of alcohol fills his senses the moment he walks in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The countertops with the sleek, silver poles were occupied, and the bartenders were at work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Considering that it was 12 in the afternoon, there wasn’t much of a crowd- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But rather the creeps that were unemployed and had nothing better to do than ogle at the prostitutes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaebum sometimes wonders what he did to end up like this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least the staff and owner were understanding of his situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaebum!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of his fellow workers approaches him with a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Su-Jin hyung,” he responds with a small grin, “how are you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kim Su-Jin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>21 years old. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bartender. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all Jaebum knew about him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he have a significant other? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Does he have siblings? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Family? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Jaebum has heard of anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine- Just been busy making drinks since morning. You’d be surprised how many people get their hearts broken in one day.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He motions to male sitting at the end of the bar, with his head placed on the counter and multiple shot glasses surrounding him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That guy has been here since 10 am- No one’s noticed him yet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaebum eyes the male, noticing the messy head of red hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinks and his heart races when his mind wonders: </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this the male he’s been looking for? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaebum?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know his name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Su-Jin looks at him in confusion and Jaebum repeats the question while pointing to the male. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Him. Do you know his name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older shakes head to his disappointment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t say that I do- Any reason?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh escapes Jaebum’s lips, “no. No reason at all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he was mistaken. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyone could have red hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jaebum there you are! You need to get dressed!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets dragged by one of the dancers, hurriedly moving past the elongated bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes spare a glance at the passed out male before he disappears behind the curtains.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>☽◦☾ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have some good news for you, Jaebum.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The owner approaches him with a small smile as he gets his makeup done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sheet of music is placed into his hands, causing him to look at the other in confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the sheet music for?” Jaebum asks while carefully looking through the black notes adorned on the page. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I recently invested in buying a piano for the club, and I heard that you play?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes I do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The owner beams in satisfaction and pats him on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “So from now on- You just need to play the piano when you come here. However, you still need to stay in costume… I hope that’s not a problem?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaebum looks down at the minimal pieces of clothing that clung onto his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Playing the piano was better than what he usually had to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I accept.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>☽◦☾</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an elegant looking piano. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sleek and black with roses carved into its sides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ivory keys felt cool under his fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew he was going to be attached to the instrument over the course of a few hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try it out, Jaebum.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Su-Jin appears beside the piano and lightly raps his fingers against the top, “what song did he give you to play?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>
    <em>Nothing Else Matters</em>
  </b>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaebum was slightly familiar with the song, though it had been a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he was being honest- The title described his mindset spot on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean to rush you, but people are starting to look in your direction,” Su-Jin whispers and he nods in acknowledgement before taking a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaebum plays the song gracefully, letting his fingers explore the expanse of the white keys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few whispers and whistles could be heard in the distance from the small group of men that had gathered close to the stage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Some of the dancers glared in Jaebum’s direction for stealing the attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Su-Jin closes his eyes and softly hums the tune beside him as he continues to let his fingers dance on the keys. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The piano sounded beautiful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>☽◦☾ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mind teaching me how to do that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How to do what?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Su-Jin moves his fingers as if he was playing the piano. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaebum chuckles slightly while slipping on his mother’s blouse, “I don’t see why not.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older smiles in his direction, ruffling his hair affectionately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “You’re an </span>
  <em>
    <span>angel,</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Im Jaebum.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I doubt angels work in strip clubs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t bet on it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Jaebum playfully punches Su-Jin’s arm before slipping on his bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to get going-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you know you can come to me if something’s bothering you right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was rather a sudden reminder, but Jaebum only nods in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, hyung. Of course I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>☽◦☾</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks about Yugyeom’s invitation for drinks for the weekend as he heads back to ‘hell’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart was craving the comfort of the intoxication of alcohol numbing his body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mind wanted to make sure that he didn’t cause an even bigger burden for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God- He hated being conflicted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His feet travel down the empty sidewalk next to the barren road. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaebum decides not to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to burden Yugyeom and his friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jinyoung wasn’t going to be there either, and he already had a hard time trusting people and communicating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was best that he kept his <em>d i s t a n c e</em>. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hello there! Before you begin reading this chapter, I just want thank you guys so much for your patience. It's really been hard, especially when I don't want to disappoint you guys&lt;3 Just knowing that you guys read this story make me so happy, and I'm so grateful to have readers like you. My updates will be rather slow and random because I'm currently in school, so it takes time away for me to write. However, I will try my best regardless :) </p><p>Anyways, I don't want to take anymore of your time and I hope you enjoy this chapter :) Again, thank you so much for your patience and support! I love you guys! &lt;33</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾<b>Painkiller</b>☽◦☾</p><p>Mark’s fingers tangle in his hair in frustration. </p><p>He can’t think of what to write for the next part of his book. </p><p>Writer’s block had finally kicked in. </p><p>He shuts his laptop and covers his face while leaning back in his chair. </p><p>A writer’s worst enemy. </p><p>His phone buzzes a few moments later with a text from Jackson saying that he was going to be at a friend's for the rest of the morning. </p><p>The time on his phone reads <em>9:31 am</em>, so he decides to take a walk to clear his mind. </p><p>Considering that it was a weekday, the streets were pretty empty. </p><p>Mark sighs while taking in his surroundings, his mind at peace with the light noises of the wind rustling the leaves of the line of trees. </p><p>He knew winter was coming soon, imagining the white snow decorating the places where the leaves would soon leave their posts. </p><p>There was something about the transition from fall to winter that put him at ease.</p><p> At least it allowed him to get out his sweatshirts. </p><p>Then his mind suddenly drifts to his angel. </p><p>Was his angel well? </p><p>Warm? </p><p>He hoped so.</p><p>The winters were usually terrible around this year. </p><p>Maybe he could add that into the story- </p><p>He needed to clear his head in another way.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>BamBam had sent him the location of the club they were supposed to meet up at this weekend. He thought that it would be a good opportunity to check it out. </p><p>After following google maps for 10 minutes, Mark manages to find his destination. </p><p>He wouldn’t be lying if he said that he expected the luxurious and over the top interior. </p><p>The club was rather large, with black walls that complimented the velvet couches. </p><p>There were a few tables and chairs that sat between the lengthy bar and the performing stage. </p><p>His brother was known for his <b><em>impeccable</em></b>taste. </p><p>Mark takes a moment to process that this wasn’t just any club- But a <b><em>strip club</em></b>. </p><p>One or two dancers were busy practicing on the silver poles installed into the stage, though he tried not to look at them. </p><p>He focuses his gaze on the bar instead, remembering BamBam mentioning the variety of drinks the club had to offer. </p><p>“Welcome to <b><em>Poison</em></b>. What can I get you?” one bartender greets him as he approaches. </p><p>“Isn’t it too early for drinks?” </p><p>“It’s never too early for drinks, my friend.” </p><p>“You’re pretty ambitious around here, hm?” </p><p>“It’s like our motto goes: Drinks or pleasure; Pick your poison.” </p><p>Mark chuckles slightly from the pun, “if that’s the case- Surprise me then.” </p><p>The bartender takes a good, hard look at him. </p><p>“You seem like the type to enjoy a <b><em>Painkiller Cocktail</em></b>.” </p><p>“As long as it’s strong enough to knock me out.” </p><p>“Rough day?” </p><p>“More like a rough week.” </p><p>The bartender nods at him and begins concocting his drink, but tries to maintain small talk. </p><p>“You have someone I can call for you if you pass out?” </p><p>“I have two.” </p><p>“Even better.” </p><p>“I didn’t expect you to be so nonchalant about this.” </p><p>“You look like you could use the rest. Who am I to deny a customer’s needs?” </p><p>Mark’s eyes follow the yellow drink being slid towards him, the bartender giving him a knowing smile. </p><p>“Just write down those numbers for me and I’ll take care of the rest. I promise I’m not some creep or serial killer- Just a bartender that knows what it's like to be human.” </p><p>Mark nods at him in acknowledgement, scribbling down Jackson and BamBam’s numbers on a piece of paper and handing it to the other. </p><p>The bartender tucks it into his pocket before nodding at him and walking away to attend to someone elsewhere. </p><p>The drink feels cold in his hands, and he could practically smell the sweetness. </p><p>Pushing away any common sense, he downs the drink in one go and waits for the alcohol to settle in.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>His head was tucked in his arms, red hair sprawled slightly. </p><p>His face felt slightly warm and his eyes felt too heavy to open. </p><p>He sat there, hearing footsteps pass by him and chattering from some of the staff. </p><p>Mark was too exhausted to pay attention to what they were saying, but one conversation caught his attention. </p><p>He recognized the voice of his bartender. </p><p>“<em>That guy --- ---- ---- since 10 am- No one’s noticed --- yet.</em>” </p><p>Were they talking about him? </p><p>“<em>J-----?” </em></p><p>It sounded like a name but he couldn’t focus on it quite clearly. </p><p>“<em>Do you know his name?</em>” A smooth male voice asks, his words dripping sweetly like honey. </p><p>“<em>Him. Do you know his name?</em>” </p><p>Mark assumes that the male was pointing at someone. </p><p>He isn’t sure if it was another passed out male or <b><em>himself</em></b>. </p><p>He tries to pick up his head to look, but it feels heavy with the exhaustion and the alcohol. </p><p>“<em>Can’t say that I do- Any reason?</em>” </p><p>He hears a sigh follow after the question. </p><p>“<em>No. No reason at all.</em>” </p><p>A woman shouts from the distance, and he hears footsteps hurriedly walk past him. </p><p>Though… It felt like someone was looking at him as they passed. </p><p>Mark musters up a little bit of energy to turn his head slightly and open his eyes. </p><p>All he manages to get is a glimpse of black hair disappearing behind the curtain before passing out again.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>“So, what was the occasion?” </p><p>“Nothing… Just felt like getting wasted. The bartender was cool with it.”</p><p> “Yeah, he mentioned that he let you just chill till he called me- Your <b><em>younger </em></b>brother.” </p><p>Mark chuckles slightly, still a little drunk and dizzy. </p><p>“You’re just upset that I didn’t invite you.” </p><p>BamBam simply hums at that. </p><p>They drive in silence for the next few minutes, with Mark laying his forehead against the cold window as soft r&amp;b music plays from the radio. </p><p>The city buildings and people blur together as they drive past, creating different illusions of color. </p><p>“Sometimes I wonder if you’re actually the oldest.” </p><p>“I do too.” </p><p>“Mark hyung… I'm worried about you.”</p><p> “Why is that?” </p><p>The car brakes at a red light, giving BamBam the chance to look Mark in the eye. </p><p>“I don’t want you to make the same mistake you made a few years ago with… <b><em>her</em></b>.” </p><p>Mark appreciates that he doesn’t say her name. </p><p>It only brought back bad memories. </p><p>“I made a lot of mistakes during college. She was just a <b><em>minor </em></b>inconvenience-” </p><p>“A ‘minor inconvenience’ that almost cost you your life.” </p><p>“The light’s green.” </p><p>“I know. Don’t chance the subject.” </p><p>“Who said I was?”</p><p> “I just…” </p><p>BamBam’s voice breaks slightly as he presses on the gas pedal, “I don’t want us to go through that all over again… because this ‘<em>angel</em>’ that you always talk about-” </p><p>“He’s just as desperate as I am. You didn’t see him the way I saw him. There was something there… we both felt it.” </p><p>“Do you really think he’s looking for you like how you’re looking for him?” </p><p>Everything goes silent. </p><p>BamBam realizes that he’s dug too deep because of his overly concerned thoughts. </p><p>“I trust him.” </p><p>“How can you trust someone you barely know?” </p><p> Mark draws circles on the window, absently muttering to himself. </p><p>“I just do…” </p><p>The oldest closes his eyes and let his exhaustion take over. </p><p>The youngest silently stares at the empty road, worry and concern building up in his chest to the point it felt suffocating. </p><p>No words are exchanged after. </p><p>
  <em>Mark hyung… I don’t want to lose you forever.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: The lyrics are the English translation of Got7's song 'Miracle'.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾<b>Miracle</b>☽◦☾</p><p>
  <em>“Am I wasting my time?” </em>
</p><p>Mark questions his motivation for the first time. </p><p>Before his angel, there was absolutely nothing that gave him a reason for existing. </p><p>He was miserable. </p><p>All he wanted was to be accepted by his parents for who he <b><em>really </em></b>was… </p><p>But that dream had seemed too far away.</p><p>A gay writer- </p><p>They would just laugh in his face and tell him to get out of his imagination. </p><p>For now, they know him as Mark Tuan: </p><p>Their <b><em>straight</em></b> son that’s studying to become a <b><em>doctor</em></b>. </p><p>He knows it’s stereotypical, but it was the best he could come up with on the spot. </p><p>The conversation occurred during his graduation from high school- </p><p>Which was ultimately their last conversation. </p><p>In truth, Mark was completely clueless on what he wanted to do. </p><p>He undoubtedly had a strong passion for writing and everything else came to his disliking, though he was somewhat good at them. </p><p>It made him feel lost and hopeless, and he wondered why he was like this. </p><p>Though… </p><p>It was ultimately all about money- From what his parents told him. </p><p>“<em>A well paying job leads to a happier life</em>.” </p><p>He wanted to ask what a desirable job would lead to, but he knew the answer he would get wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear. </p><p>In all honesty, he envied the other students that had already set and planned their lives- </p><p>Or pretty much all of the students except Jackson. </p><p>Jackson was like him; unsure of what he wanted to do. </p><p>The only difference was that he was loud and social, while Mark was quiet and ‘<em>mysterious</em>’ (according to the girls). </p><p>If he remembers correctly, they met on the first day of school when Jackson had stumbled across him in the library. </p><p>Mark was writing and Jackson was being chased by his fanclub. </p><p>The other had approached him out of breath and asked if he could hide under the table, to which Mark shrugged without looking up once. </p><p>Jackson’s fan base somehow doesn’t catch the male’s figure under the table and leaves the library, which had given him a chance to breathe. </p><p>Jackson crawls out and thanks him, and Mark simply replies with a ‘you’re welcome’, thinking that that was the end of their conversation. </p><p>This was when he learned about the younger’s curious nature- </p><p>“<em>What are you writing?</em>” </p><p>“<em>... A poem.</em>”</p><p> “<em>Oh cool! Is it that poem assignment for Ms. Byun’s class? Man I haven’t started that assignment yet, even though it’s due in 3 days. I know it doesn’t sound like a problem but like I suck at writing, like </em><b><em>really </em></b><em>suck at it. Once when I was in first grade, we had to write a short story and…” </em></p><p>And talkative nature. </p><p>Mark sighs. </p><p>Why couldn’t things be simple? </p><p>He stares at his laptop screen, the next chapter of his story waiting to be written. </p><p>Would… </p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Would his angel side with him? </b>
  </em>
</p><p>He chugs down the remaining amount of coffee in his cups and starts typing.</p><p>---</p><p>
  <em>There was nothing magical or indifferent about this house. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We always met in the most exquisite of places- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But this house was simple. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The walls were a bland shade of white, with faded wooden furniture placed in the corners of the room. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I surveyed our surroundings rather quizzically and went to comment about the bleak atmosphere- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But I stopped myself when I saw my angel’s eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a sad, nostalgic look in them as his fingers grazed over the wooden railing of the staircase. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hesitate for a moment before I ask from the other side of the room, “where are we?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t say anything at first, silently staring at the dull wooden floor beneath our feet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wanted to know so badly what was going on through his head. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My hand slowly reaches to touch his shoulder, but he flinches away from me in surprise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>They held pain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I began to say before whispering gently, “you died in this house, didn’t you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t show any sign telling me if I was right or if I was wrong, but just stares at my face with his slender eyes blown wide. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looked scared. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Please…” he whispers out brokenly while clutching the white fabric of his blouse. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t hurt me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Was he talking to me? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I would never hurt you-” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t hurt me. I’m begging you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I look at him with confusion, but mostly concern, wondering where the sudden change of emotion had come from. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then I noticed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His eyes were glassed over. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was stuck in his own mind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which meant that… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was seeing me as the person who hurt him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was a villain in his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was at a loss of what to do. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I was looking for a solution. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll do better. I’ll do better.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His pleas were beginning to sound more and more desperate, and it broke my heart. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I shut my eyes as I racked my brain for a solution. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Any solution. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I began frustrated when I came across several hopeless ideas- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until I remembered. </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Our song</em>
  </b>
  <em>. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My eyes open and I see my angel crouched down on the floor, face buried into his knees while sobbing softly. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I swallow thickly before approaching him cautiously as the words of the song slowly begin to escape my lips. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>It was… An especially cold winter day for me.</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>A night that felt like… This year just forgot about me.</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>But you stood before me coincidentally. Like a single ray of light.</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>In my dark sky- Where no one came.</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>You became a small star- And brightly shined for me.</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>My angel stops shaking and his sobs subside as I finally come close enough to crouch down in front of him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He lifted up his head slowly and I saw his beautiful dark eyes staring at me, a grateful smile on his lips as I sang his favorite part. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>At the tip of winter, I met you, who became my spring</em>
  </b>
  <em>.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>Oh miracle… It’s such a miracle</em>
  </b>
  <em>.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>After you came- My winters aren’t so cold anymore.</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He cries tears of joy this time as I envelop him in a tight embrace, whispering the last two lines into his ear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“</em>
  <b>
    <em>Because I have you… Who looks at me.</em>
  </b>
  <em>” </em>
</p><p>[Save?]</p><p class="">[<b>Yes</b>] [No]</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾<b>Dream</b>☽◦☾</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Few weeks ago…</em>
  </b>
</p><p>He sometimes forgets that he has a job. </p><p>It’s not that he didn’t like working there- </p><p>He just forgets. </p><p>It’s been a force of habit since leaving his parents back in high school. </p><p>Trying to remember their faces was difficult- </p><p>But he forced it to be that way. </p><p>They were stifling his passions and setting up to be someone he wasn’t. </p><p>So he tried to pretend as if they didn’t exist. </p><p>Though, it was difficult when his mom would try to call him occasionally.</p><p>The only family member he’s learned to trust and depend on was BamBam. </p><p>The younger was currently in college, while working a side job as well. </p><p>He wishes he could be like him sometimes, but he’s learned to be content with himself. </p><p>“There you are, Mark!” the store owner greets him with a smile on her face. </p><p>Kang Sana, a 45 year old woman that had the most sad yet touching love story he’s ever heard. </p><p>She and her husband had dreamed of spreading their love for music by opening a small music shop once they were out of college. </p><p>Unfortunately, her husband was enlisted to the military, but she promised to wait for him until he came back. </p><p>He never did. </p><p>News reached her in a few weeks along with a letter that he had written beforehand just in case he wouldn’t make it.</p><p>
  <em>My dear Sana.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you are reading this… I have fulfilled my duty on this Earth and have reached where mankind cannot go until they dance with death. It pains me to leave you, but I can only justify this to be my fate. Please don’t be sad and stay hung up on me. You do not have to wait for me any longer. I only wish for you to be happy now. All the years you spent on me haven’t gone in vain, I promise you. You have made me the happiest man and I could never ask for someone else. I know this is hard to believe, but I really am gone. I just ask for one request: Be happy and continue living your life. I’ll be waiting for you when the time comes. I love you and I will never stop. Take care.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kim Sang-chul</em>
</p><p>---</p><p>She told him that she knew she wouldn’t be happy with anyone else. </p><p>The only thing that would make her happy was fulfilling their dream of opening the music store that she runs today. </p><p>Mark tears up remembering her story. </p><p>“Have you eaten yet?” Sana asks him and he nods in response, placing his coat on one of the coat hangers. </p><p>She hums in acknowledgement before glancing at a man standing at one of the pianos. </p><p>“That man has been looking at our pianos for a while now,” she whispers, “I think you might be the right man for the job.” </p><p>Mark nods at her silently in acknowledgement before making his way over. </p><p>The man must have been so deeply engrossed in his thoughts that he flinches slightly when Mark lightly taps him on the shoulder. </p><p>“Sorry, did I startle you sir?” </p><p>“No no you’re fine. I was just looking.” </p><p>“Do you need any assistance?”</p><p>The man stares at him for a moment, as if he was questioning if he knew anything about the pinnacle of piano or even music in general. </p><p>“I’m looking for a piano that matches any environment, but also… The person who’s playing it.” </p><p>Mark had to admit- </p><p>It was a rather odd request. </p><p>“Could you possibly describe this person in question?” </p><p>The man smiles at him. </p><p>A soft yet sad smile.</p><p>“He’s just a boy in my eyes. Fragile but beautiful. He’s gone through a lot for the past few years… He has the most dangerously alluring dark pair of eyes and long dark hair to match." </p><p>Mark pushes back the thought that this description seemed rather similar to that of his angel. </p><p>“Follow me this way please.” </p><p>He leads him towards the back of the store before they stop in front of one certain piano. </p><p>The man stares at it for a moment before smiling in satisfaction. </p><p>“<b><em>It’s perfect</em></b>.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>“How long do you plan on avoiding them, Mark? Your phone’s been ringing like crazy.” </p><p>The older sighs. </p><p>“As long as I have to. I’m not ready to face them yet.” </p><p>He sees Jackson open his mouth, but closes it right after and nods at his words instead. </p><p>“I trust that I know what you’re doing.” </p><p>“When do I ever know what I’m doing?” </p><p>“It’s different this time. You and I both know it.” </p><p>Mark is silent and Jackson knows he agrees with him. </p><p>“I didn’t want to leave on this note, but I promised Youngjae I would help with his job at the preschool.” </p><p>“Please don’t tell me <em>you</em> teach them.” </p><p>“Okay, I won’t.” </p><p>Those poor children. </p><p>“You don’t need my permission to leave you know,” he says quietly and Jackson shakes his head. </p><p>“Mark, you’re my best friend. I’m not going anywhere if you really need me. I know you try to act like you’re okay, but I know you’re not. Please don’t shut me out.” </p><p>The memory of <b><em>her </em></b>suddenly stabs into his mind. </p><p>The last time he shut everyone out was when he was with her. </p><p>The memories are a mix or sweet and bitter, and they leave a bad taste in his mouth. </p><p>“<b><em>How could I love someone as dull as you</em></b>.” </p><p>“<b><em>You’re not half the man I thought you were</em></b>.” </p><p>“<b><em>Can you just… disappear already?</em></b>” </p><p>“I won’t.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>☽◦☾ <b>White</b> ☽◦☾</p><p>Saturday rears its head by the end of the week. </p><p>If Mark could postpone going out for drinks today, he certainly would. </p><p>However, he knew that it was exactly what he needed whether he believed it or not. </p><p>This week has been <em>difficult </em>to say at the least. </p><p>“You’re not flaking out tonight right?” </p><p>“I’m not, Jackson.” </p><p>“Okay good. Youngjae’s coming too, but he said he needs to be picked up.” </p><p>“That’s fine.”</p><p> “I’ll come and pick you up at 8 after my shift. Make sure to dress nice and be ready.” </p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>Jackson shoots him a grin before he shuts the door behind him, and the apartment is almost silent apart from Mark’s breathing and the heater softly humming. </p><p>A sigh leaves the older’s lips as he glances at the clock that was perched on the wall. </p><p><em>7:00 am</em>. </p><p>What could he achieve in the span of 13 hours? </p><p>He had no inspiration to write today, which he had to admit was a strange feeling. </p><p>All he anticipated was going to the <em>strip </em>club at 8:00 pm tonight, but <b><em>only </em></b>for the drinks and nothing else. </p><p>He decides to make him some breakfast before leaving the comfort of his house.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>A couple of kids run past him as he walks through the park, laughing and being the very definition of boisterous. </p><p>He briefly recalls when he was like that. </p><p>If he remembers correctly, it was back in elementary school when ignorance was truly bliss.</p><p>He used to smile a lot as he played a rousing game of tag, all the kids around his squealing in excitement. </p><p>Suddenly, he recalls one boy. </p><p>Dark hair that shielded his eyes and soft lips always pressed together in a bitter line. </p><p>No one else seemed to notice him, but Mark did. </p><p>There was something so intriguing about him to 10 year old Mark and he wanted to figure out what went through that small mind of his. </p><p>He hated seeing people sad, but he was too shy to really approach new people. </p><p>So he would just watch the boy from afar, sitting underneath one of the many trees and drawing in his sketchbook. </p><p>Mark would purposely run over in his direction at a distance and go behind him to see what he was drawing. </p><p>The boy was too engrossed in what he was doing that he didn’t notice. </p><p>Or at least that’s what he thought. </p><p>For being 10 years old, Mark had thought, this boy had a knack for drawing people and flowers. </p><p>It was an image of a woman in a frame of flowers, half her face skeletonized. </p><p>The next day he would see one drawing after another, either a small doodle to a rough sketch. </p><p>He wished he had mustered up the courage to talk to him-</p><p> Because the boy stopped coming to school. </p><p>Mark remembers coming home and crying about it to BamBam, with the five year old simply patting his back and giving him a cookie in the hopes of comforting the other. </p><p>Suddenly, there’s a tugging at the leg of his pants and followed by an ‘excuse me, Mister?’, and he looks down to see a doe-eyed kid smiling up at him. </p><p> He smiles back, not showing his teeth. </p><p>“Could you get our ball from the tree?”</p><p>The child points at the colorful, sphere object tangled in the branches of a nearby tree. </p><p>Mark nods in response before making his way over as he feels the curious and anticipating eyes of the little children from behind. </p><p>He reaches his hand up and shakes one of the brown branches, releasing the ball from it’s captivity as it falls down and bounces once before rolling a little bit. </p><p>The kids cheer and go back to the ball, except for the boy that approached him earlier. </p><p>“This is for you, Mister,” he says while fishing through his small pocket before pulling out a small chocolate chip cookie and placing it in the center of Mark’s palm. </p><p>He grins proudly and Mark briefly sees a flicker of his younger self in the boy’s eyes. </p><p>The child runs back to his friends after waving a goodbye, and he continues to walk while taking a bite of the cookie in his hand.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>“Mark? You don’t have a shift today.” </p><p>Sana’s eyes crinkle slightly when she smiles at the appearance of Mark’s face at the door. </p><p>“I thought I’d be the customer today,” he jokes with a small chuckle to which her smile widens. </p><p>“Yes, of course! Right this way.” </p><p>She leads him to the back and pulls a chair for him to sit in while she goes to retrieve something from the back room. </p><p>“You remember Sana 2.0 right?” </p><p>In her hands is a sleek, brown guitar that Mark’s all the more familiar with. </p><p>“How could I not? It was your husband’s guitar,” he says as he gently takes it from her hands. </p><p>Ever since he told her that he played the guitar, she always had him play a song on her husband’s guitar at the end of the day. </p><p>“Anything you want me to play?” he asks while tuning the strings, leaving Sana to rack her brain for a song. </p><p>“There was one song my husband used to play for me,” she says with a nostalgic sigh, “<em>A Guy Like Me </em>by Lim Chang Jung. Have you heard of it?” </p><p>Surprisingly, he has. </p><p>His mother would listen to that song cooking and he would occasionally hum along with it. </p><p>“I have.” </p><p>He takes a moment to recall the melody before he begins the guitar gracefully as Sana sits on the piano bench opposite to him with her eyes closed. </p><p>It was a heart wrenching song to say at the most. </p><p>Once he finishes playing, they both sit in silence as the strings hum fades out. </p><p>“Mark…” </p><p>He looks up and sees Sana’s eyes glossy with tears that threatened to spill. </p><p>“You’re like the son I never had,” she suddenly says with a grateful smile, “and it’s only a moment in time before I join my husband.” </p><p>“Sana-ssi…” </p><p>“I want you to have it.” </p><p>“Have what?” </p><p>“The guitar. I want you to have my husband’s guitar. There’s no one else I can think of that is more worthier than you.” </p><p>Mark is taken aback. </p><p>“I couldn’t possibly-” </p><p>“It’s not doing me any good sitting in the back collecting dust,” Sana chuckles before looking into his eyes with hopeful eyes. </p><p>“Mark, I can see my husband in you. The same eyes filled with love for the person he cares about the most. Take his guitar and use it for the love of your life.” </p><p>He places the guitar gently back into its case and locks it, before getting up and hugging Sana tightly. </p><p>“Thank you, Sana-ssi. I’ll take good care of it. I promise.” </p><p>“I know you will, Mark.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>By the time he makes it back with his new guitar, it’s already 7:45 pm and gives him 15 minutes to get ready before Jackson returns. </p><p>He places the guitar carefully near his bed before fishing out a black dress shirt from his closet. </p><p>Jackson arrives shortly after he finishes getting ready and they go to pick up the infamous ‘Youngjae’ Jackson always talked about. </p><p>“I have to warn you,” the younger says as they stop at a traffic light, “his smile is pretty contagious.” </p><p>Mark keeps that in mind as the car takes a right and stops outside an elementary school. </p><p>A male appears soon after, waving his hand excitedly before walking over and entering the car. </p><p>“You must be Mark!” Youngjae says brightly, “I’m Choi Youngjae! Jackson’s childhood bestie.” </p><p>The male’s energy was unmatched that’s for sure, but like Jackson had warned him before- </p><p>He did have an infectious smile. </p><p>“Nice to meet you, Youngjae. Jackson has talked a lot about you.” </p><p>Youngjae’s face flushes and Jackson coughs to hide his own reddening face. </p><p><em>Interesting</em>.</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>“Mark hyung! Jackson hyung!” </p><p>They meet BamBam and his <em>tall </em>friend outside the club, and the significant differences between the two was humorous. </p><p>In comparison to BamBam’s bright and flashy attire, his friend wore a simple black shirt with a camo jacket to be paired with it. </p><p>“Guys, this is my friend and art partner, <em>Yugyeom</em>. Mind introducing us to yours?” BamBam says while motioning at Youngjae. </p><p>“Ah right! This is my childhood best friend, Choi Youngjae. He moved here a while back,” Jackson explains while slinging an arm around the other’s shoulder. </p><p>They all chat amongst themselves, except for Mark who silently hangs towards the back of the group. </p><p>When they make it inside, each of them are handed a decorative mask to wear. </p><p>“Tonight is <b><em>Masquerade Night</em></b>. Everyone must wear masks,” one of the bartenders informs while handing Mark a black feathered one. </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>They sat themselves between the bar and the stage, BamBam ordering a round of drinks for everyone and gave Mark a moment to think. </p><p>Thinking about his angel that is. </p><p>Where could he be hiding? </p><p>Is he okay? </p><p>Was he really just a piece of his imagination? </p><p>“Mark, take a break from thinking about that ‘angel’ of yours.” </p><p>4 shots glasses sit in front of Jackson, the other slowly slipping into the hands of intoxication but not quite yet. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>The younger rolls his eyes and slings an arm around his shoulder, pointing at the stage. </p><p>“You’ve been hung up on your angel for a while now. Loosen up! Have some fun. Try out one of the dancers.” </p><p>That feels like he’s cheating. </p><p>“I don’t know…” </p><p>“You won’t know if don't you try. Come on! Pick someone and I’ll handle the rest.” </p><p>Mark knew that once Jackson promised something, he stuck by it. </p><p>So he surveys the room to find someone who wasn’t keen on participating in sexual favors tonight. </p><p>Then he spots on the very left of the stage, a dancer in all white playing the piano that he recognized from the shop. </p><p><em>So that’s who the piano was for</em>. </p><p>The dancer’s face was hidden by a white feathered mask that contrasted from his own, but their raven locks stood out boldly from the white attire. </p><p>The way their head hung low and lips pressed tightly together, Mark knew that they didn’t want to be out here where the crowd was. </p><p>If he can’t save his angel- </p><p>He might as well save someone else. </p><p>“The one at the piano,” Mark says while pointing to the white dressed dancer and Jackson smiles proudly at him. </p><p>“That’s my hyung!” </p><p>The younger goes to raise his hand to signal over a bartender, and eventually one comes by. </p><p>“Hey, so my friend over here wants to spend time with that dancer at the piano over there. I can give you as much money as you need.” </p><p>Mark hates the way Jackson talks about the dancer like they were some object that can be bought easily, but he knew it was just the excitement and alcohol talking. </p><p>The bartender stares at Mark for a moment before departing to the dancer in question, leaving the two of them to watch from a distance. </p><p>The dancer stops playing and turns in their direction. </p><p>Mark swears his heart skipped a beat and he doesn’t really know why. </p><p>The bartender and dancer talk for a few minutes before the bartender comes back and the dancer disappears behind the curtains. </p><p>“<b><em>He </em></b>has agreed, but there are a few rules you must follow.” </p><p>
  <em>So it’s a male. </em>
</p><p>“1. You must not take your mask off.” </p><p><em>I can do that</em>. </p><p>“2. If the dancer is uncomfortable, you are not to push him further.” </p><p><em>No problem</em>. </p><p>“3. Filming or photography is not permitted.” </p><p><em>I would never</em>. </p><p>“4… Please treat him well.” </p><p>“I promise.”</p><p>☽◦☾</p><p>Mark is taken behind the curtains and walks down a hallway of rooms, before he’s brought into one. </p><p>“Your dancer will arrive shortly. Make yourself comfortable.” </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>The door closes and now he’s left alone in the rather spacious room. </p><p>He sits himself in one of the lounge chairs and waits patiently. </p><p>He slips his phone into the pocket of his pants and the dancer enters at the same time. </p><p>“Sorry for keeping you waiting…” </p><p>“It’s okay.” </p><p>Without hesitation, the raven-haired dancer sits himself on Mark's lap and takes the other by surprise. </p><p>He watches the dancer’s hands slowly go to unfasten his belt- </p><p>But the shaking of the other’s hands don’t go unnoticed. </p><p>“Hey…” </p><p>Mark gently grabs his wrists to stop him before looking up into his eyes, “do actually want to do this?” </p><p>Something flicker’s in the dancer’s eyes for a moment. </p><p>“If I’m going to be honest… not really- But I need the money so…” </p><p>Mark wraps an careful arm around the dancer as slightly lifts his body to pull out his wallet, fishing through a few bills before handing it into the dancer’s hand. </p><p>“I’m going to be honest with you too- I’m not really into doing explicit things. My friend put me up to this because I can’t stop thinking about someone…” </p><p>He sees the dancer’s eyes widen. </p><p>“I can’t stop thinking about someone either. What a coincidence.” </p><p>“Do you want to get off my lap and we can just talk?” </p><p>“Actually, your lap is surprisingly comfortable, unless you mind-” </p><p>“No no, not at all.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you for reading !</p><p>Let me know what you think in the comments :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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